One Month

Chapter Eight

Natasha's claim that Tony was upset had been an understatement. As soon as Peter entered the building, he was met with Tony drilling him with questions.

"Where were you last night?"

"Queens."

"What were you doing?"

"Mourning."

Tony had stumbled, but he continued, "Why did you lie to me?"

"Because you would have wanted to send somebody with me," Peter had answered. "I wanted to be alone, Mr. Stark." Peter hurried upstairs to his room before Tony could ask anymore questions, and he hoped that Natasha would come up with some lie for him.

Peter took his web-shooters off of his wrists and stuffed them into his satchel bag before he changed from his clothes to a pair of shorts and a shirt. He was surprisingly exhausted, and his ankles had begun to hurt since his talk with Natasha. His adrenaline had stopped pumping.

"Welcome back, Peter Parker," Peter climbed in bed as F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke from a holographic screen over the wall. Peter hummed in response as he buried his head in a pillow. "Mr. Stark would like to see you in the main room."

"Please tell him to let me sleep," Peter told the A.I. The screen disappeared and Peter hummed once again as he closed his eyes.

"Mr. Stark says the meeting is urgent," F.R.I.D.A.Y. reappeared. Peter kept his eyes closed and kept quiet. "Peter Parker."

"Tell Mr. Stark to come to my room, I'm tired," Peter spoke after a moment. He covered his head with another pillow and pushed himself into the pillows below him.

"Mr. Stark was on his way up here anyway," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said before disappearing again. Peter heard the door open, and he groaned into his pillows.

"Parker, we're not finished," Tony Stark began as he walked in. "I know that you've been through a lot but if you begin lying and becoming rampant like a teenager, I'll have no choice but postpone your acceptance into this team." Peter felt the weight of the bed shift, but he kept his face covered.

"Mr. Stark," Peter's voice was muffled. "You forget that I am a teenager."

"Oh, I didn't forget, Peter," Tony's voice got a little louder, and Peter assumed that he had turned to his pillow-encased head, "I just thought that you were much more mature."

"Mature or not," Peter uncovered his head, "anybody would act out after a loved one's death. I'm sure that you did." Peter covered his head back again. "Now, can I please sleep? I've been up all night."

Tony didn't reply to Peter anymore. Peter felt the bed shift again before the door slammed close. Peter regretted his words, but he was too tired to care. It didn't take him long to fall asleep.

***

Peter woke up with a gasp, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and he pushed the pillow off of his face. His chest ached and it took him a little too long to calm down. After his breath steadied the tiniest bit, Peter let his head fall into his hands.

"You sassed Mr. Stark," Peter groaned to himself. "You have to apologize, Peter." He rubbed his face roughly before he took then from his face. He finally powered his phone back on and he frowned at the time -- 1:26 A.M.

Texts from Ned flooded in as Peter got out of bed. He walked to his bathroom and finally brushed his teeth for the day before he looked at his phone again.

"Dude, you have to answer me. Is Mr. Stark taking care of you?" It was the last text Ned had sent, and Peter didn't bother with any of the others.

"I'm staying at the Avengers' Compound," Peter texted back. He pushed his phone into the pocket of his shorts before he remembered Natasha's words.

His chest and ankles still ached, but he slowly pushed his door open anyway. He could hear the smallest beat of a rhythm, quieter than it had been in the morning. He tip-toed down the hall and the steps. He was barefoot and the floor was cold against his skin, but he ignored the sensation.

He was careful as he walked toward the studio. The music got louder as he got closer, but the volume was nowhere near unbearable. Peter came to the studio window and found that Natasha was, in fact, where she said that she would be.

Peter glanced around before he put his hand on the handle. In all honestly, he was terrified. He had talked out of exhaustion, but Natasha knew what his answer was now. Peter took a deep breath before he pushed the handle down and pushed the door open.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder and smiled, "Hello, little spider."